


Pillows Don't Complain

by take_you_to_a_vampire_bar (hermanthejanitor)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cute, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Post-Canon, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 14:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermanthejanitor/pseuds/take_you_to_a_vampire_bar
Summary: Baz loves cuddling Simon in bed, not that he'd ever say so out loud. Today though, he actually really does need to get up. Not that his octopus-limbed, extraordinarily stubborn boyfriend seems to understand that.





	Pillows Don't Complain

**BAZ**

Simon Snow is a cuddly sleeper. I’d always wondered that, even when I was eleven and convinced that the way my pulse quickened at the sight of the tawny-skinned boy was hatred.

 

I’d look at him, all curled up on himself like a fawn hidden in the grass by its mother, and I’d wonder, for purely academic purposes, what would happen if someone were to lie next to him. If someone were to share that tiny bed with him, would he roll away? Would he let someone hold him? Would he hold me back?

 

As it turns out, if someone (me) is next to Simon in bed, he seems to become less part-dragon and more part-koala, and cling onto you, arms and legs and everything, pressed up against you as if preventing escape. If you’re slightly undead and have a lower than average body temperature, it’s like a radiator has come to life and fallen asleep in the middle of attacking you.

 

I can’t sleep without it.

 

My favourite way to sleep, not that I’d admit it, is burrowed into Simon’s chest, his arms around me and my body between his legs, like that first night in my room.

 

If I’m honest though, as I become ever more pathetic, any position that involves me, Snow and a bed is fine by me. (Yes, I do mean that in a dirty way as well, though that is more excusable. Snow is disgustingly attractive.)

 

The problem is, Snow knows that and uses it to his advantage.

 

One time, in the height of summer, Snow was lying across me (head on my chest, arm around my waist, leg across my body, sheets kicked away, the whole ordeal), when he suddenly decided that the heat was too much for him. Just like that, as if he was flipping a pillow to the cool side, he sat up and rolled me over.

 

I let out an undignified squeak of surprise as I suddenly went from playing with my boyfriend’s hair and enjoying the warmth radiating from him, to being face down in the mattress.

 

“Snow, what the fuck-” I tried to sit up, but Simon was already settling back on top of me, his face pressing into the nape of my neck, his chest heavy on my back. His leg threw itself over my hip, and his tail wrapped itself around my far leg.

 

“Snow” I tried again, my voice muffled.

 

“Shhhhh” the idiot soothed me like I was a mewling baby, rubbing his face against my back in an oddly cat-like way, shifting against me contentedly.

 

“Snow, I’m not a fucking pillow.”

 

“Yeah, pillows don’t complain” Snow’s lips ghosted against me, planting a kiss at the top of my spine before he nuzzled down again, the rumble going through him only solidifying the cat similarities.

 

I was about to object again, because Pitches don’t let themselves be rolled over just so their hot-water-bottle-boyfriends can cool down, when he wriggled his fingers under me, his splayed hand coming to rest against my stomach.

 

Damn him.

 

“You’re a bloody nuisance,” I muttered darkly, adjusting myself so my cheek was against the pillow with my arms tucked underneath.

 

“Good pillow.”

 

I very, very, very nearly threw him off for that.

 

I didn’t though. His weight was solid and warm over me, pressing me into the mattress in a way that was comforting rather than suffocating. His scent surrounded me like a blanket, even radiating from the pillow in my face. His breath brushed the back of my neck steadily.

 

Also, I was quite tired.

 

I felt Snow’s breathing change as he drifted into sleep, and a bubble of warmth bloomed rebelliously inside me.

 

Fuck me.

 

Anyway, the point is that I am pretty much always willing to put up with whatever mortifying sleeping position Snow has a mind to put me in. Today though, it’s getting a bit ridiculous.

 

He has gone full octopus- sprawled across my chest, both arms around me, head tucked underneath my chin, tail encircling my waist, legs entangled with mine. It wouldn’t be annoying, or even unusual, for me to stay here and let him have his cephalopod way, but I have an essay to write, and chores to do, and the idiot isn’t letting me move.

 

“Snow” I grunt, pushing at his shoulder, not gently. My boyfriend moans and just buries his face in my neck, his grip tightening grumpily.

 

“Simon” I try again, attempting to unclasp his fingers from my waist “I need to get up.”

 

He doesn’t even respond, just presses his lips to my neck in what I assume is supposed to be an appeasing gesture, and shifts so his weight is pushing me back into the mattress more.

 

I shove again and he growls.

 

I need a new tactic.

 

I consider just throwing him off and sprinting to the door, I have strength and speed on my side, but that would be undignified. Also, morning Simon is offensively cute, and I would feel bad. Well, only a tiny bit bad.

 

I curl my hand through his hair, my fingers scratching his scalp and tugging his locks gently, in a way I know makes him melt. His grip softens slightly.

 

I continue, stroking my other hand up and down his back, as I start dusting his face with kisses as best I can. I reach his forehead, his closed eyes, the bridge of his nose. When I reach his ear I feel him shift, moving back so he can look at me.

 

Hair mussed with sleep and my hands, eyes barely revealing a flash of blue as they peer open, face scrunched up disgruntledly, he really makes a picture as he pushes himself off my chest slightly. He pouts at me disapprovingly, his bottom lip sticking out tantalisingly.

 

I almost regret what I’m about to do. Almost.

 

Quick as magick, I push him off me, rolling to the edge of the bed and sitting up, Simon letting out an indignant squawk behind me.

 

I pause to glance back, wanting to see if I’ve pushed him off the bed (I’m kind of hoping I have, the sight would be too hilarious), and that is my mistake.

 

Like an angry baby panda he latches onto my back, arms constricting under my arms and around my chest, legs locking around my waist. He bites at my neck as a reprimand for throwing him off (and I’m supposed to be the vampire here), strengthening his hold on me as if to prove a point. He even grabs one of my arms with his tail, his wings flaring around us and hemming me in possessively.

 

“Simon” I groan, exasperated “I really need to get up.”

 

“No” his chin moves petulantly against my shoulder as he speaks.

 

“Compelling argument, Snow, really. Come on now, I need to work on my essay, stop acting like a spoilt child.”

 

“Don’t need to work. Saturday. Sleep.”

 

Snow is even less articulate when he’s sleepy than at every other point in his life. It’s going to be the death of me.

 

“I _do_ need to work on my essay, Snow, because I _didn’t_ work on it last night,” I explain with exaggerated patience.

 

“Didn’t mind last night” Snow chuckles and I want to smack him. Or stick my tongue down his throat.

 

“Yes, well, if you want me to have time to watch Doctor Who with you tonight, you’re going to have to let me go work now.”

 

“But I want to watch Doctor Who. We’ve just got up to the part with the Master. He’s hot.”

 

I snort at that.

 

“Have a thing for villains, don’t you, Snow?”

 

“Have a things for villains that stay in bed” he somehow clenches his arms even more tightly around me and I’m getting really frustrated now.

 

My boyfriend is the most stubborn, whiny, irritating, adorable creature ever inflicted on a vampire.

 

“Come on” his tone changes, softening like butter, and alarm bells start blaring in my head “I come back to bed when you ask.”

 

He starts leaving open-mouthed kisses up and down my neck; his tongue darting out at unpredictable intervals and making me shiver.

 

“That’s your prerogative, Snow, but right now I have to go.”

 

He ignores me, securing his legs around me to compensate for his arms loosening, his hands starting to stroke up and down my chest.

 

“Come on, darling” his voice is like lightning-infused honey drizzling into my ear as he nibbles on my earlobe, tugging on it and making me arch my neck “we don’t have to sleep, you know.”

 

“Merlin, Snow, you’re incorrigible” I curse my voice for sounding even a hair more breathy.

 

“And you’re going to come back to bed” Snow decides, pulling me back, so I’m slumped against him, my head resting part way down his chest. He looks down at me and grins, that smug, annoying, charming grin.

 

“Snow” I endeavour to put a warning in my voice, but I don’t think it gets across as Simon’s grin only widens. I'd probably make my point better if I sat up. I don't.

 

One hand is stroking up and down my neck now, while the other circles it’s way lower and lower, until it’s tracing along the waistband of my pyjama bottoms, playing along the strip of skin exposed by my t-shirt.

 

“Simon” I try again, but there’s no warning at all now.

 

That’s apparently all he needs, because next thing I know, I’m on my back on the bed with Simon hovering above me. For a boy apparently so sleepy, he’s deceptively fast when he wants to be.

 

I raise an eyebrow expectantly. He growls playfully. Then we’re kissing.

 

“Fine” I manage when I have breath “we’ll work on a compromise.”

 

**SIMON**

Later, lying under Baz on the sofa, watching Doctor Who, I decide that he doesn’t know what compromise means. I don’t think I’ll tell him that.


End file.
